


Parenthood

by orphan_account



Category: Holy Trinity (YouTube RPF)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 08:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6231256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Parenthood

They’ve been married for three years when Grace decides she wants to have a baby. It takes her another month to convince Hannah that she’s serious and it isn’t a really weird prank, but pretty soon they’re staring at two blue lines on a pregnancy test and Grace has never seen Hannah look so happy in her life.  
Three days later a delivery truck pulls up and unloads the most beautiful solid oak crib Grace has ever seen.  
“Hannah!” Grace says, half delighted and half astonished, “this kid isn’t due for nine months!”  
Hannah grins. “I know, that should just be enough time.”  
“Enough time for what?” Grace asks, and Hannah just grins.  
“You’ll see,” she promises, and directs the delivery men to put the crib in the garage.  
The next day, Hannah gets a bunch of stencils of farmyard animals, spaceships, and for some reason, fruit, and draws them all over the crib. Once that’s done, she grabs her whittling knife and starts carving the first design into the wood.  
“Hannah?” Grace asks softly, and her wife looks up at her with a smile.  
“This is going to be the first gift I give our kid, Grace. I want it to be special!”  
Grace rests a hand over her stomach and fights the urge to cry. Four days into being officially pregnant is way too soon to blame the hormones.  
-  
Hannah invites her sisters over to the house for the weekend and they break the news over brunch on the Saturday. Naomi cries her eyes out and Maggie practically vibrates off her chair at the thought of being an aunt and Hannah just glows with pride. She shows them the crib project and talks them through the plans for the nursery and she can’t go more than a minute without looking back at Grace with a look of such adoration that she blushes every time.  
They tell Grace’s family at Thanksgiving dinner the next week, with Grace’s dad and stepmom on Skype so that everyone finds out at the same time. Her mom actually screams out loud and John picks Hannah up in a bear hug and spins her round until she threatens to puke on him. Tim’s hug is more restrained but no less sincere, and the two of them pepper her with congratulations and questions and slightly off-colour comments about knocking Grace up until she has to go and rescue her wife from Theresa, who is already planning a shopping trip for maternity clothes.  
“Is it too late to just not tell them?” Grace whispers to her and Hannah laughs and hugs her.  
They tell Mamrie next. She comes over to film a YDAD and once the drink is finished, she offers them both the traditional taste-test.  
“Not today, Mametown,” Grace says, fighting to keep a straight face. Hannah has already lost it and is smiling like a kid on Christmas.  
“Grace Helbig turning down vodka? Not possible. Who are you?”  
Grace reaches for Hannah’s hand as she answers.  
“I’m someone’s mom,” she says, finally letting her grin break through.  
Mamrie snorts.  
“Yeah right. Nice try, Gracie.”  
Hannah starts to giggle. Grace just raises her eyebrows meaningfully.  
Mamrie’s expression changes slowly, from sarcasm to disbelief to outright shock.  
“Are you fucking with me right now?” She demands. Grace holds up her hand in the Camp Takota salute. Hannah does the same, still giggling.  
“I swear I’m not kidding, Mamrie. I’m pregnant.”  
Mamrie’s eyes go wider than Grace has ever seen and she shrieks in delight, pulling Grace into a hug and bouncing up and down. Hannah is nearly bent double with laughter when Mamrie lets go and grabs her instead, squeezing much harder than she had with Grace.  
“You’re gonna be a dad?!” Mamrie yells in Hannah’s ear.  
“Yup!” Hannah says proudly.  
Mamrie elbows her in a friendly way. “Never tell me how you managed that, okay?”  
Hannah collapses into giggles again and Grace rolls her eyes so hard it hurts.  
-  
If it weren’t for Hannah, being pregnant would freak Grace out so, so much. Instead, Hannah works on the crib for months as Grace slowly resigns herself to not seeing her feet for a while. She baby-proofs the house, and then dog-and-baby-proofs it once Goose destroys the first attempt. She talks to the baby so much that when she has to go out of town for a couple of days, Grace calls her at 2 am in tears because she can no longer fall asleep without the sound of Hannah’s voice floating up from her belly. Hannah ditches her meetings and gets the next flight home, and when she arrives Grace cries her eyes out in Hannah’s arms for ten minutes before immediately blaming the hormones and swearing Hannah to secrecy.  
By the time the due date approaches, Grace is surprisingly calm. She decides to do something for Hannah once the baby is born to show how grateful she is for Hannah’s unwavering support and confidence. She’s sketching out ideas in a notepad when pain shoots through her abdomen, making her grunt, and she feels wetness start to soak through her pants.  
“Really, kid, now?” She asks, rhetorically, before yelling to her wife.  
“Hannah!”  
“Yeah?” Comes the response from the study.  
“I think I’m in labour!”  
There’s a long pause.  
“What?” Hannah’s voice comes out a full octave higher than usual.  
“My water just broke!”  
She hears footsteps running down the stairs and Hannah appears in the doorway, white as a sheet.  
“What?” She asks again, and Grace shuffles sideways, revealing the wet patch under her.  
“Grab the hospital bag, babe, it’s time to go.”  
Hannah doesn’t respond. She’s still just staring at Grace and her expression is one of complete terror.  
“Hannah!” Grace snaps her fingers.  
“What?” Hannah says again.  
“Get the bag! I’m having a baby here!”  
Hannah obeys, grabbing the sports bag they’ve had packed and ready by the door for a week. Grace climbs slowly into the car, hissing as another contraction hits.  
“Oh God! Are you okay?” Hannah yells, and Grace winces at the volume of her voice.  
“Hannah, relax!” She instructs. “You’ve been fine for nine months, why the hell are you freaking out now?!”  
“I don’t know!” Hannah shouts, and Grace can’t help but laugh at the look on her face.  
“Okay, well can you get us to the hospital in one piece?” She asks, half seriously.  
“Hospital. Yeah, I can do that. Hospital.”  
Focussing on driving seems to calm Hannah a little and they arrive safely, but as Hannah helps Grace out of the car another contraction hits and Hannah immediately panics again.  
“Hey! We need help! Pregnant lady over here!” She yells. Grace shushes her, but it does the trick and a nurse comes out to them with a wheelchair. She feels a little ridiculous being wheeled into the hospital, but Hannah almost starts hyperventilating when she tries to refuse it, so she gives in.  
By the time she’s in a bed and wearing one of those awful gowns, a nurse has steered Hannah into the chair next to her and given her a paper bag to breathe into. The nurse looks up at Grace sympathetically.  
“First baby?” He enquires. Grace nods.  
“Yeah, you can always tell the first time dads.”  
Hannah glares and the nurse laughs kindly.  
“Relax, your family is in good hands. I’m Robbie, I’ll be looking after Grace today. Doctor Green is on her way and then we can get this party started. You ready to meet your kid?”  
Hannah pales again and leans forward to put her head between her knees. Grace eyes up Nurse Robbie suspiciously as he chuckles.  
“I like you,” she finally decides. Hannah lifts one arm and flips her off, and Grace and Robbie both laugh.  
“I swear, she’s been the calm one until now!” Grace says. As Robbie opens his mouth to reply another contraction hits and she groans. Hannah immediately jumps up, dropping the bag and taking her hand.  
“Are you okay?” She asks frantically. Grace waits for the pain to fade and then pulls Hannah into a hug.  
“I’m fine, baby. We’re fine. Go get some air and start calling people, okay?”  
“You’re sure?”  
“I’m sure,” Grace says.  
-  
Four hours into her labour, Grace genuinely wishes she’d never met Hannah.  
“I never even wanted children before I met you!” She yells, as the demon spawn inside her claws its way out.  
“I’m sorry, baby,” Hannah soothes, wiping her sweaty brow and Grace hates that she’s calm again.  
“Don’t patronise me, Hannah!” She snaps, “This was my choice!”  
Hannah nods.  
“You’re right, Grace.”  
“So this is my fault?!”  
Hannah’s reply is lost in her screams as her body yet again tries to turn itself inside out. She feels Hannah stroke her back and somehow, it really does help.  
“Look at me, Grace,” Hannah says, “keep your eyes on me. You’re doing so great, baby, I’m so proud of you! Just keep breathing. We can do this.”  
Grace locks gazes with Hannah, and maybe it’s the drugs, but somehow Hannah seems to fill the whole world until all she can see is the electric blue of her eyes, shining with love and devotion.  
Okay kid, she thinks, we can do this. Get the fuck out of my body and try not to kill me while you’re at it.  
There’s more pain and more screaming and through it all Hannah’s steady gaze keeps her anchored, keeps her from giving up, until finally it’s over. Grace collapses against the bed and feels Hannah press tiny kisses all over her face.  
“You did it, Grace!” She whispers. Grace lets herself float on the cloud of drugs and endorphins until she feels Hannah’s hand slip from hers, then she opens her eyes to see Robbie hand their son over to Hannah.  
Hannah looks up at her with tears streaming freely down her face and comes to the bedside. Grace looks down at the tiny, wrinkled boy in Hannah’s arms and feels herself start to cry as well.  
“Hi, Matthew,” she whispers, overwhelmed. Hannah carefully hands him over and even more carefully climbs onto the bed. They just lie there, gazing at their son in awe.  
-  
Matthew is four days old and Grace swears he’s been screaming for three of them. Hannah looks like a zombie and she’s pretty sure she looks the same way. It’s four am and Hannah is walking him around the house singing a lullaby, hoping to soothe him back to sleep.  
“Give it up, Hannah!” she groans, “It’s not going to work.”  
Hannah shoots her a glare, stomps over to her and hands the baby over.  
“Fine! You try!” Hannah snaps. Matthew keeps screaming, his tiny face purple, and Grace does the first thing that comes into her head.  
“Oh the kitchen was unexpected, and my life had no directive, and I lost my true objective at the start,” she sings, horribly off-key as usual. Hannah stares at her as though she’s grown a second head but suddenly, Matthew stops screaming. Grace falls silent out of shock.  
“Keep going,” Hannah urges. Grace sings as much of the song as she can remember, with Hannah occasionally prompting her on the lyrics. Matthew’s eyes slide closed and he sucks on his fist contentedly as Grace absolutely murders Hannah’s song. As he finally succumbs to sleep, Grace lets her voice trail away and she and Hannah stare at each other in astonishment.  
“Seriously?” Hannah whispers, and Grace fights off a hysterical giggle.  
“Apparently being tone-deaf is hereditary,” Hannah mutters.  
“Are you pouting because he didn’t like your singing?” Grace asks.  
“No!” Hannah insists, even as the corners of her mouth turn down.  
Grace puts Matthew gently down into the crib and unconsciously traces one of the patterns Hannah carved into the outside.  
“Hannah, he’s sleeping. Let’s just go to bed and I can soothe your ego tomorrow, okay?”  
Hannah pouts stubbornly for a few moments more before exhaustion wins out.  
“Okay,” she agrees.  
-  
Three months after he’s born, Matty is finally sleeping through the night. The first few nights, Grace and Hannah all but pass out as they catch up on their own missed sleep, but after a week or so they get into the routine of having time to themselves once Matty is down for the night.  
This particular night, they’re watching a documentary of some sort, cuddled together on the sofa. Grace is absently running her hand through Hannah’s hair, noting that’s it’s grown a little shaggy. Hannah hums in pleasure as Grace strokes the back of her neck and the sound hits her square in the gut.  
“Babe?” She murmurs, and when Hannah turns to her she must see something in her expression, because she smiles wickedly.  
“Yeah, Grace?” Hannah says as she places a hand lightly on Grace’s thigh.  
“I miss you touching me,” she admits.  
Hannah smile fades for a moment and she strokes Grace’s cheek tenderly.  
“Me too, beautiful,” she assures her, the rakish smile returning. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”  
Hannah kisses her. Since Matty was born they’ve been too exhausted for lovemaking and suddenly those three months feel like an eternity. She kisses Hannah back and starts unbuttoning her shirt, desperately needing Hannah’s skin against hers.  
Hannah breaks the kiss just long enough to pull Grace’s shirt over her head before diving back in, kissing her with such urgency that Grace gasps into her mouth. They tear at one another’s clothes and once they’re free of them, Hannah pushes Grace down onto the sofa and climbs on top of her, pressing their naked bodies together. She kisses a path down Grace’s body and suddenly Grace is incredibly aware of the changes she’s undergone since giving birth; the slight stretch marks and the love handles she has yet to shed. She squirms a little, and Hannah, through some marital telepathy, chooses that moment to look up at her with those sincere blue eyes.  
“You’re beautiful, Grace. I love you so much.”  
Grace feels herself blush, and Hannah smiles and resumes her erotic exploration, deliberately kissing every new feature of her post-partum body. For the first time since giving birth, Grace starts to feel beautiful again.  
“Hannah,” Grace breathes, as her wife settles between her legs. Her entire body feels like it’s tingling with anticipation. “Please.”  
Just as Hannah’s lips touch her skin, the baby monitor flares into life and the sound of Matty’s cries fill the room. Hannah looks up again, outraged. Grace laughs ruefully and reaches for her jeans as Hannah walks naked into the bedroom, grumbling. Grace doesn’t bother with her shirt since her milk is already coming down.  
Hannah comes out with Matty in her arms.  
“You’re lucky I love you, kid,” she tells their son, “I’ve killed men for less.”  
-  
Hannah goes back to making My Drunk Kitchen videos when Matty is six months old. Mamrie offers to babysit so that she can bond with her nephew and Grace can have some time to herself. It’s pretty much the perfect system.  
“Boop boop!” Hannah says into the camera, opening a bottle of wine.  
“Hey guys! I have the house to myself today, so let’s get drunk!”  
She looks around for her mason jar wine glass for a few moments before finally giving up and pouring the wine into one of Matty’s bottles. An hour in, and halfway through an attempt at ravioli, inspiration strikes.  
“Hey guys, you know what would be easier than ravioli? Sleeping. But also, baby food! It’s basically just drunk food anyway, right? Matty likes it, and the internet tells me that babies are just tiny drunk people, so let’s do it!”  
She grabs a tiny jar from the fridge, opens it, dips two fingers inside in a move that she knows full well is going to get gif’ed, and crams them in her mouth.  
She freezes.  
“This was a mistake.” She lisps around her fingers, and turns to spit into the sink.  
“Oh Matty, I’m so sorry,” she says, staring in horror and betrayal at the jar. “What have we been doing to you?”  
The sound of keys in the door startles her and she grabs the baby bottle she’s been drinking from and frantically washes it out, making shushing gestures at the camera.  
“Don’t tell Grace!” She says pleadingly.  
The video gets almost a million views within a week, and Grace only yells a little bit when she sees Hannah drinking wine out of Matty’s bottle, so Hannah calls that a win.  
-  
When Matty takes his first steps, Hannah is crying so hard she can barely hold the camera up to film it. Grace is kneeling a few feet away, arms outstretched, as Matty totters forward. He finally reaches her and she scoops him up, laughing with delight. Hannah puts the camera on a shelf and joins them, tickling Matty until he squeals with laughter.  
-  
On his first day of school, they spend all morning getting him excited for his new adventure. Hannah high-fives him every time he says the word ‘school’ and Grace lets him ride on her shoulders all the way to the gates and neither of them cry until he’s well out of sight.  
-  
From Matty’s first birthday onwards, Hannah speaks Japanese exclusively to him three days of the week. When Grace first protests, Hannah simply says “we’re parents, Grace. It’s our job to teach him everything we can.” By the time he’s ten, Matty is fluent in Japanese and conversational in German, thanks to Hannah roping Flula in to teach him. Grace has picked up a decent amount of both languages, too, but she’ll never admit that she’s proud of that.  
-  
Years come and go until one day, Hannah and Grace are standing in an airport with their 18 year old son, trying very hard not to cry.  
“Are you sure you want to go?” Grace asks him. “I mean, Oxford isn’t that good a school. And it rains all the time in England.”  
“I know, Mom,” Matty says, hugging her. “I packed my umbrella.”  
Hannah clears her throat and steps forward. She still isn’t quite used to her baby boy being more than a foot taller than her, but she hugs him just the same.  
“You call us every day,” she instructs.  
“Every weekend, Mom. You agreed,” Matty reminds her, laughing.  
“Fine, every weekend,” Hannah grumbles.  
Matty’s flight is called and he pulls them both in for one last hug.  
“I’ll call when I land, I promise,” he says as he steps back, “I love you guys.”  
“We love you too, baby,” Grace says, voice thick with tears.  
They stand together and wave as he hands over his ticket and disappears through the gate.  
“He’s going to be okay, right?” Hannah asks anxiously. Grace nods.  
“This is what’s supposed to happen, babe. We did a good job. He’s going to be fine.”  
She thinks for a moment and smiles.  
“No,” she corrects herself, “he’s going to be amazing.”


End file.
